


soon all the trees in the world

by mickleborger



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: F/F, POV Third Person, that very important hug at the end of TFA
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-30
Updated: 2018-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:56:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17223626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mickleborger/pseuds/mickleborger
Summary: leia (/ or &) rey + 27.  "Ancient oracles walk softly at our feet."gloomy interlude for the end of a year that frankly could have afforded to have been more gentle





	soon all the trees in the world

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kimaracretak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kimaracretak/gifts).



> (Dead To A Dying World, "Cicatrix")

The crowd is milling about them, joyous shouts muffled as if through leagues of an ocean Leia knows too well.  D'Qar has split in two around her, leaving her alone in the arms of a bloodied wraith whose rage has only halted for a moment.  She wonders what worlds Rey has walked that have not cracked under her step. 

The D'Qar where good news has landed is far way, falling upwards faster than anything has in a long time; and she is here in the pit with a thing the desert spat out, just as it spat out her twin, and so unlike him.  Here, it is silent but for the rushing in her ears.  Here it is dark but for the glow that no one else seems to notice in Rey.  Here it is cold but for the ghost of a beating sun that knows no pity.

Leia daydreams of the death of another planet-killer, another victory dwarfed by grief keen as if the corpses had been pinned to the sky like butterflies; and Rey who shatters worlds holds her without breathing a word (nor anything at all, but that is not what matters).  Great high walls of nothing rise around them and Leia thinks of revels that mean less every time they force themselves over poorly-covered graves like halfhearted drapery over a hole in a wall in an ever-weathering house.  It flaps in the wind now, the too-loud wind that spirals down from the resistance base triumphant.  She stares over Rey's shoulder at it, at the silhouette retreating beyond it.  She does not want to put the drape back in its place.

Rey, whose own house is a maze of dancing fabric she tears at when she's not looking, only holds Leia and stares groundward and asks nothing of her.  For this, Leia will dress her in her own colors, in her own blue-green that she will make sure Rey who does not distinguish between greens understands, if she will take it -- but not now.  Now, she buries her face in Rey's shoulder and waits for the rest of the world to come back down.


End file.
